


My Soul was not Aware of Your Existence, but It Still Fell in Love with You

by gardakuka



Series: Soulstorm [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Implied Relationships, Sansa Stark is Wise and Stubborn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardakuka/pseuds/gardakuka
Summary: Soulmate AU in which Sansa falls for her soulmate before she even meets him. The problem is, everyone keeps telling her that the person with the same soulmark doesn't exist.Wait, no.The problem is, Sansa is too stubborn to give up.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Series: Soulstorm [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625113
Comments: 135
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I'm treating myself after a very stressful week with this.  
> (please stay home and be healthy, alright?)  
> The title is a line from a song which inspired me to the whole idea (the name of the song itself literally translates into English as 'little bird', coincidence - i don't think so).  
> The number of chapters is a provisional one; it could go up to 10, or could decrease to 6. I'll see how it will go.  
> An 'underage' tag is something I will always put for my fanfics when they're set in canon setting.

Sansa was sure her soulmark was the cutest one. It looked like a flower of five petals and it was the most elegant and beautiful mark she ever saw. Arya’s mark on her forehead resembled a reaping hook, for example. It was cute too, but in another way.

Her soulmate had to be a knight. The most gallant and brave knight in the whole Westeros. There was no way someone with that soulmark could become a ruthless killer. Sansa liked to touch the little mark on her left cheek in front of the mirror. She touched it and thought if her soulmate was doing the same.

When the soulmark appeared on her face, her parents were so happy. Her father promised to talk to the maester and find out if anyone from other big houses had a son with a similar mark. It was a nice gesture from his side, though Sansa wished she could find her soulmate herself. It would be just like in her favourite songs.

She liked to imagine her beautiful soulmate arriving at Winterfell and asking for her hand. He would touch her cheek and Sansa would do the same. She heard from her mother that touching your soulmate’s mark was a strange, but at the same time the most wonderful experience. Sansa was running her fingertips over little petals on her cheek and prayed to the gods to send her soulmate to Winterfell.

Then she would be the happiest girl in the whole world.

  
  


***

  
  


People always had had their soulmarks on the visible parts of their bodies. Robb’s mark was on his wrist, a little heart with a spear. His soulmate was a young girl from a small house from the westerlands.

Their father and maester Luwin had sent ravens across the whole Westeros after she, Robb, and Arya got their soulmarks. Jon had a soulmark too (a long ribbon winding around his neck), but Sansa wasn’t sure their father was looking for his soulmate. Bran didn’t receive his soulmark at all, and Rickon was still too young to get one.

Some people were born without soulmates. Sansa and her siblings had learned it wasn’t something unusual. Sometimes it happened. She was worried about Bran, though. He was a nice boy, a very sweet and intelligent boy, and somehow gods decided to leave him without a soulmate.

Maybe it was for the better. People who didn’t have their soulmarks were able to fall in love with anyone they wanted. People who had their soulmarks had to spend their lives searching for a person they were bonded with. Sometimes those searches ended with nothing. People were marrying someone who wasn’t their soulmate and had lived happily until the end of their days. Even her mother was destined to marry a man who didn’t have a soulmark at first.

It wasn’t something unusual, but Sansa hoped she will find her soulmate. She caressed the flower of five petals on her cheek and imagined her soulmate doing the same. She didn’t know that man at all, but somehow she was already missing him. She hoped her soulmate was doing the same.

He had to be somewhere in Westeros. She had a soulmark, which meant there was another person who had the same petals on his cheek. A couple of years had passed after maester Luwin sent the ravens with the picture of the same mark, and there was no reply at all. The same had happened with Arya’s mark. But it’s been only a year in Arya’s case. She still had more time than Sansa.

Their mother was worried about them, Sansa knew that for sure. She didn’t tell her daughters about it, but Sansa knew from the songs that the soulmark stayed on someone’s body until their last breath. Even if their soulmate was already dead.

But Sansa knew her knight had to be alive. She touched her cheek and knew it. Maybe he wasn’t from a big house. Maybe he wasn’t a knight at all, but just a humble peasant. She didn’t care. She knew she would love him despite of his birth or wealth or anything else what could be considered a gap between them.

He was her soulmate and that was everything important. Maybe she was too naive and stupid, but Sansa knew she loved him already.

***

“Why do you think your soulmate is handsome?” Jeyne asked her one day.

It was a very stupid question. Sansa shook her head and puffed.

“I don’t think he’s handsome, I _know_ he is handsome,” she corrected her friend. “He has the same soulmark as I do. He will always be handsome for me.”

“Even if he is forty years older than you or has awful scars on his body?” Jeyne screwed her face. She had a soulmark too, but she never showed it to anyone. Even to Sansa, who was her best friend.

“I don’t think he’s that old,” Sansa sighed. “And I won’t care if he’s scarred or has any other injuries. They will serve as a proof of his bravery, you know.”

Jeyne had to agree with her words. She sighed and kicked a little pebble in front of her.

“I overheard my father talking to yours,” she said, avoiding Sansa’s eyes. “I think your father had lost any hope to find your soulmate. He’s afraid that person doesn’t exist at all.”

“It can’t happen, I have a soulmark on my face,” Sansa puffed again. She couldn’t believe her friend was so naive.

“Yes, but what if he’s dead?”

Sansa gulped and touched her left cheek. She carefully run her fingertips over each petal and smiled.

“He is alive,” she said, giving Jeyne reassuring nod. “I can’t explain to you why I am so sure of it, but I just know he is alive. And I hope he thinks of me as much as I do.”

“I hope you’re right,” Jeyne shook her head and turned her face away.

Her friend was pitying her, Sansa was sure of that. Everyone in Winterfell pitied her. There still was a hope for Arya, but nobody knew where Sansa’s soulmate was. Sansa knew she will find him one day, though.

***

There was a raven from King’s Landing. Her father read a letter during the breakfast and his eyes widened in shock. He quickly retreated to his solar, and her mother followed him as soon as she made sure all children ate their food.

“I hope nothing is wrong,” Sansa said to her sister.

“I bet it’s just another letter from King Robert,” Arya shrugged, but Sansa knew it had to be something else. There was no royal seal on the letter, there was no seal at all, as if the letter was sent by a commoner.

Maester Luwin approached them later on and asked Arya to come with him to their father’s solar. Later on, they were told that Arya’s soulmate was found. Sansa smiled and hugged her sister (who wasn’t impressed by the news at all), and thanked the gods for making Arya’s life happier.

She hoped the gods would be merciful to her as well.

***

The five-petal flower on her left cheek was blooming as always. Sansa touched it and sighed. She had no idea where her soulmate was hiding, but she hoped he was doing well.

She missed him so much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for your lovely comments <3  
> Here's another chapter of this spontaneous story.

King Robert was about to come to Winterfell and Sansa was excited. Of course, she wanted to meet the royal family. She heard from her father the stories of his youth and the time he spent with young Robert Baratheon. She also wanted to see the Queen, who was told to be beautiful and _very_ ladylike.

The King was arriving with a large travelling party, and Sansa was so thrilled about it. She knew it was a stupid and naive thought, but there was a hope that her soulmate would arrive with them. He would come through the gates of Winterfell, notice Sansa’s cute mark on her cheek, and run to her. Just like in the songs.

Sansa caressed the petals on her cheek and tried to hide her smile. She decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Jeyne would pity her, Arya would laugh at her foolishness, her mother would sigh and explain that sometimes people didn’t meet their soulmates at all. Sansa didn’t want to hear all those words, so she kept dreaming.

Nobody could stop her from dreaming of the man she didn’t know but loved nevertheless. 

Sansa _knew_ she loved him.

  
  


***

  
  


Of course, her soulmate didn’t come. King Robert’s household was _huge_. There were servants, soldiers, knights, and many of them had their soulmarks. Sansa tried to act like a lady, but it was so difficult to not stare at the people who were getting themselves comfortable in Winterfell.

Some members of the royal family had their soulmarks as well. There was a small, but elegant half moon under Queen’s left eye. Her twin brother had the same mark and at first, Sansa thought it was something scandalous. But then she got a chance to talk to Ser Jaime and realised that it wasn’t just a half moon on his face. There were a sun and a heart _inside_ that half moon of his. They were almost unnoticed, but all together they didn’t look as elegant as Queen’s soulmark. Sansa knew there was no way someone’s mark could be called ugly, though.

Princess Myrcella had a little sun on the back of her hand, and little prince Tommen had a flower of three petals under the left corner of his mouth. Even Queen’s younger brother had a soulmark on his neck, though Sansa wasn’t able to take a long view of it.

On the other hand, prince Joffrey didn’t have his soulmark. He was a handsome young man with the looks of his mother. He was nice and gallant to Sansa, but his eyes were cold. Just like his mother’s. He didn’t receive his soulmark and wasn’t fond of them.

“Having a soulmate makes you weak,” he told Sansa during one of their strolls around Winterfell. “You think too much about someone who maybe doesn’t even exist and become dependent on them. And that’s exactly what weakens your spirit.”

Sansa didn’t agree with him at all. She had her soulmark and knew that the thoughts of her soulmate helped her to be stronger. She thought of the man who had the same petals on his left cheek and her body and mind were filled with determination and hope.

“Maybe you’re right,” she replied politely. He was a crown prince, after all. And their guest. It wouldn’t be polite to argue with him on such a subject. “But I still believe that soulmarks are important.”

“They are dull”, Joffrey snorted. Sansa thought he was just jealous of people who had their soulmates, but decided to stay quiet. “And trust me, my lady, all fierce warriors are the ones without those stupid marks on their bodies.”

Sansa felt sad for those warriors. She heard from her father about the soldiers he met on the battlefield. They were fighting as if it was the last day of their lives. They had nothing to lose. Of course, they were fierce and brave. They were fighting without any regrets because there was no kindred soul in their lives.

Too bad Joffrey wasn’t able to understand that.

***

Sansa wanted to spend more time with her siblings or Jeyne or even princess Myrcella, but somehow Joffrey managed to steal almost her attention. He was very kind to her, but Sansa didn’t feel comfortable enough in his presence.

Good thing was they never were alone. Joffrey’s sworn shield was accompanying them and somehow his presence was calming Sansa down. He was a quiet man who followed his charge with an unreadable expression on his face. Oh, _that face_.

It wasn’t nice of her, but when Sansa saw him for the first time she flinched. She was fairly scared by his face, especially the left side of that. There was no skin at all, just an ugly mass of scars. Sansa tried to think what unnatural power could make his face to turn into _that_ , but decided not to fill her head with those impolite thoughts.

He never spoke to her, but Sansa heard his voice when he was talking to Joffrey. Sansa knew he was called the Hound and decided it wasn’t nice to refer to him by the moniker. He was a man, not an animal. A loyal and fierce man, yes, but not a dog. There was no way to explain it to Joffrey, though.

She asked her father about him and learned that his name was Sandor Clegane. It was much better than that stupid moniker.

Maybe Sandor Clegane was someone’s soulmate. Sansa wouldn’t like if her soulmate was called by a disgusting moniker, so she decided to call him by his name in her head, even though she never spoke to him directly.

***

“Sansa, dear,” her father drummed on the table with fingers. “We need to talk.”

Sansa closed the door behind her and stepped into his solar. The look on her father’s face was almost the same as when he learnt about Arya’s soulmate. Sansa felt a lump in her throat.

Was her soulmate found? Did her father receive any news about him? Sansa’s heart was beating so fast she thought she could fly.

She sat down and looked at her father with an unveiled hope.

“What is it, father?” she asked. Her voice wasn’t shaking and Sansa straightened her back. She wanted to think she looked like a lady, not a common wench.

“I spoke with Robert,” her father sighed and averted his gaze. “He offered me a match between you and Joffrey.”

“But I can’t marry him, father,” Sansa knew it was impolite, but she cut him off anyway, pointing at her left cheek. “I have a soulmate, and prince Joffrey doesn’t have his soulmark at all.”

“That’s right,” her father _mumbled_. Sansa never saw him so vulnerable and nervous. “But Sansa, we spent _years_ trying to find a person whose soulmark would look like yours. I even sent ravens to some merchants who have ties across the lands beyond the narrow sea.”

“And?..” Sansa whispered, already knowing the answer.

“There’s no man whose soulmark matches yours,” her father sighed and looked at her. His eyes were full of sadness. “I’m afraid he doesn’t exist anymore.”

That was so wrong. Sansa touched the petals on her cheek and shook her head.

“He must be real, father,” she said stubbornly. “I’m sure I would feel if something was wrong with him.”

“Oh, Sansa,” her father smiled at her words, but his smile was weak and forced.

***

She had to promise to her father that she would _consider_ King’s offer. Sansa’s mind was full of the thoughts of her soulmate, though. She tried to imagine herself being married to prince Joffrey and becoming the Queen. It felt wrong, so wrong.

It felt almost as if she was betraying her soulmate. Sansa caressed her soulmark and whispered the words of forgiveness.

***

The whole world could insist that her soulmate didn’t exist, but Sansa knew he was waiting for her somewhere.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and your comments <3
> 
> Here I am, throwing a cheese wheel of a plottwist downhill.

It was agreed that Sansa would travel to King’s Landing with her father and Arya. Her father accepted King Robert’s offer to become his Hand. And Arya was about to meet her soulmate. Their father had told that Arya’s soulmate was a commoner, but Arya didn’t care about that fact at all.

Sansa knew she wouldn’t care if her soulmate appeared to be a commoner as well. He could be a lord, he could be a knight, he could be a commoner, he could be a bastard. She didn’t care about it.

If only she could meet him.

Her father said that they will have to travel for almost two turns of the moon. There were many small villages and inns on their way, and Sansa felt another spark of hope to appear in her soul. What if she would meet her soulmate during their travels? She would like that very much.

She was dreaming about her soulmate all days long. And he would come to her in her sleep too. Sansa never saw his face, of course, but she was sure it was her soulmate. She dreamt of his embraces and the way he would caress the flower of five petals on her cheek. 

When she woke up, it was her palm pressed to the left side of her face.

  
  


***

  
  


“Is something on your mind, my lady?” Joffrey dragged Sansa out of her daydreaming. Sansa tried her best to hide her irritation and shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said. Her voice sounded flat. Hopefully, the prince won’t take it as a personal insult.

They made a stop at the crossroads inn north of Trident. The weather was nice and Sansa hoped to spend her free time with her direwolf. But then prince Joffrey appeared and insisted on taking Sansa with him. She knew that King Robert and her father still wanted the betrothal between their children to happen. 

Sansa still wanted to find her soulmate.

Joffrey was gallant as always. His sworn shield was following them again, though the prince tried to send him away.

“I don’t mind if he will stay with us,” Sansa said and Joffrey had to agree for Sandor Clegane’s presence during their stroll. He made her to left Lady in the inn, though.

Joffrey tried to get Sansa’s full attention with his stories about the beauty and wealth of King’s Landing. Maybe he was a nice teller, but Sansa’s mind was with her soulmate. What if he would pass by the inn when she was walking with Joffrey? Sansa bit on her lip and shook her head.

It was a very stupid dream. Something like that could happen in a song. And Sansa wasn’t living in a song.

“No, my lady, something is bothering you,” Joffrey chuckled. “Don’t hesitate to tell me about it. I am the prince, maybe I will be able to cheer you up.”

There was no way Joffrey could cheer her up unless he was going to find her soulmate. Sansa wanted to shrug and his words and tell that it was nothing. But then it hit her.

Joffrey was the prince. A beautiful prince and heir to his father’s throne. He had met and greeted people all over Westeros. He had faced commoners and noble knights the same. He had travelled across Westeros with his royal family.

_What if he had met her soulmate?_

“I have a question for you,” Sansa’s voice was trembling a little bit, but she didn’t care. “As for the crown prince.”

“Everything for my lady,” Joffrey replied with a smile. Sansa was sure she heard Sandor Clegane’s snort behind them.

“I know you travelled a lot across the lands of your father and met different people,” she said, trying not to sound too pathetic. “A-and I wanted to ask if maybe, just maybe you met a person who shared the same soulmark with me?”

She even squeezed her eyes by the end of her question. It would make Joffrey angry with her for sure, but Sansa didn’t care. She wanted him to answer.

Joffrey made a sound. Sansa opened her eyes and saw a nasty grin on his face.

“Not the right question to ask your future betrothed, my lady,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” Sansa lowered her gaze. “I didn’t want to disrespect you with my question, I just wanted to check if…”

“Whatever,” Joffrey puffed. “But no, my lady. I _never_ saw anyone who was sharing the same soulmark with you. Simply because I don’t pay any attention to those things. They’re _stupid_.”

If Arya was on her place, she would tell Joffrey that it was _him_ who was stupid. But Sansa wasn’t her sister. She simply swallowed her bitterness and nodded to his words.

But Joffrey was stupid for sure.

“Dog,” the prince said turning his head to his sworn shield. “You’re the one who always observes people near me. Tell my lady if you saw someone who had that stupid thing on his cheek.”

Sansa tilted her head and stared at Sandor Clegane with her eyes wide. Of course. He was prince’s sworn shield for many years. He was always following the boy and made sure no harm would come to him. He had always followed his charge during his travels. He had to observe people around Joffrey.

He could be the one who met her soulmate.

Sandor Clegane looked at her left cheek and Sansa felt her body warming. His face was completely expressionless, but at some point, an unnamed emotion appeared in his stare. It faded away as fast as it came up, and Sansa wasn’t able to understand what exactly Sandor Clegane felt when he looked at her mark.

His stare was so intense she wanted to raise her hand and cover her flower of five petals. Protect it from Sandor Clegane’s eyes.

“No,” the man rasped in the end and shrugged. “I don’t think I saw something like that ever in my life.”

“Right,” Joffrey snorted. “If my dog says there’s no such mark in Westeros, then, unfortunately, it means there’s no soulmate for you, my lady.”

“I’m afraid I cannot agree with you,” Sansa said in a quiet voice. She saw Joffrey flinching at her words, but she didn’t care.

Her soulmate was there and he was waiting for her. Sansa knew he was.

  
  


***

  
  


Sansa kissed the tips of her fingers and touched her soulmark with them. She wanted to show her soulmate she loved him and was waiting for him.

She was lying in her bed when she finally realised that an unnamed emotion in Sandor Clegane’s eyes was a mere _jealousy_.

Was he jealous of her because she had her soulmark? Probably. Joffrey had told her that his sworn shield was _as normal as him_ and didn’t have a soulmate. Sansa had heard enough from the others to find out that Sandor Clegane had a reputation of a loyal and fierce warrior. Just like the rest of people who lacked a soulmark, he was bringing his whole self to the battlefield.

But when he saw her flower of five petals he felt jealous of Sansa. She was sure he thought of her as an empty-headed young lady from a noble family. And still, he was jealous.

Because of her _soulmark_.

Did he want to have a soulmate too? He was a warrior, but maybe he wanted to have a person to whom he could return after the battle. Someone, who would care for him and tend to his wounds. Someone, who would accept him with his harsh behaviour and scarred face.

People who didn’t have their soulmarks were free to marry whoever they wanted. What if nobody wanted to marry Sandor Clegane because of the way he looked? His soulmate would accept him despite his looks, Sansa was sure of it. _She_ would accept her soulmate despite his looks and she hoped everyone else thought the same.

But there was no one for Sandor Clegane. That was exactly why he was jealous of her soulmark. Sansa felt truly sorry for a man.

She fell asleep with her palm pressed to her cheek and her eyes full of tears.

***

King’s Landing was a magnificent place. Sansa liked it very much, as well as she liked the Red Keep. She and her family stayed in their rooms in the tower of the Hand. It was warm outside and Sansa wished the same weather could be in Winterfell too.

She started to wear her hair in southern style. She thought it suited her. And with her hair up her soulmark was way more visible than before. She hoped it would help her soulmate to spot it easier.

Sansa was still dreaming of finding him. Her little sister was already introduced to her soulmate (their father had wide eyes for the rest of the day after he saw that boy for the first time), and Sansa wanted so much to feel as happy as Arya. Of course, her sister tried to convince Sansa she wasn’t happy meeting that stupid boy. But Sansa knew she was happy. Something was different in Arya’s stare.

Sansa was dreaming, but her soulmate didn’t come. As if he didn’t need Sansa in his life at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a longer chapter with some PLOT.  
> Thank you for reading and commenting <3

The tourney was something Sansa looked forward too. She enjoyed her time in King’s Landing, but the days had started to look the same. And Sansa was bored.

There was nothing for her to do. She spent her free time with Lady or Jeyne. Her father was always busy with work, and Arya spent almost all her time learning how to dance or getting together with her soulmate. Gendry was a nice young man and he treated Arya with respect. He was lowborn and a bastard to boot (and reminded Sansa of young lord Renly), but Arya didn’t care. 

She started to blabber about him almost all the time their little family was gathering together for shared breakfasts. Sansa listened to her stories and felt an unfamiliar feeling blooming inside her chest.

She had no idea what exactly was going with her until the day she caught that emotion in her eyes when she was looking in the mirror after Arya had left the tower of the Hand to meet her Gendry.

Sansa recognised it straight away. She had seen it recently. In the harsh stare of Sandor Clegane.

She was simply _jealous_.

Sansa hoped that at least the tourney would be able to lift her spirit. 

  
  


***

  
  


There were so many songs and tales about two soulmates meeting during the tourney. Her, a fair lady watching the joust. Him, a young knight, catching the sight of her soulmark and defeating all his rivals just to be able to name her his Queen of love and beauty.

Sansa knew that something like that won’t happen to her. Gods know how much she wanted for her soulmate to appear out of nowhere and win the tourney. But it was impossible.

Her father told her she had to start to separate her dreams from reality. In her dreams, her soulmate was coming to steal her away. In reality, King Robert was pushing her father to arrange the betrothal between her and Joffrey.

Sansa knew she was too selfish, but she asked her father to wait. At least until the end of the tourney.

She wanted to dream a little bit more before she would betray her soulmate.

  
  


***

  
  


Jeyne had that mischievous expression on her face.

“We should sneak out of here and stroll around while your septa isn’t paying any attention to you,” she whispered on Sansa’s ear. They’ve arrived at the tourney quite early and still had time before the start of the first jousts.

“Why?” Sansa asked, looking around. She wasn’t in the mood for a walk.

“It’s so boring here,” Jeyne explained. “All fun is now happening around the pavilions. And you know how many handsome knights are there…”

“And?” Sansa cut her off.

“And not just knights,” Jeyne moved her eyebrows pointedly. “There are squires, young lords, even the commoners. What if your _soulmate_ is there as well? Unless you don’t want him to be a squire or a commoner.”

“You know that it doesn’t matter for me,” Sansa said. Her heart was beating in her chest like a beautiful bird trapped in a cage. Jeyne was right. Maybe it was her chance to finally meet her soulmate.

And she couldn’t lose it.

Septa Mordane was busy lecturing Arya on her unacceptable behaviour (she made a big fuss that Gendry wasn’t able to join them earlier). Sansa nodded to Jeyne and they quietly left their places. No one around paid any attention to them.

“It was way easier than I expected,” Jeyne whispered in her ear. “And now, Sansa, let’s look around carefully. Especially on the left cheeks of all those handsome men.”

Sansa knew she would get a scolding from her septa later on. Maybe her father will also be disappointed in her behaviour, but she didn’t care. The magnificent air of the tournament had carried her to a song.

The knights were gallant and their squires were throwing friendly looks at them. Soldiers, merchants, and commoners were bustling in and out. There was joyful music heard on a distance, and Sansa was drowning in the whole atmosphere of the most magical day in her life.

If only her soulmate was there.

They’ve met so many young men, handsome men, funny men, serious men. None of them had a flower of five petals on their left cheek. Some of those men complimented her beauty and looks, some of those men followed her and Jeyne with wide smiles and some flirtatious jokes. Jeyne’s cheeks were red from embarrassment.

Sansa didn’t care about those words. She smiled politely at everyone they’ve met, but her soul was getting sourer with every step she made.

Maybe her father was right and she had to forget about her soulmate. He was a grown man and she was just a stupid and naive girl. She knew nothing about life. She thought she felt her soulmate to be alive, but maybe she was wrong. She thought she knew her soulmate was waiting for her, but maybe she was wrong.

“I think we should go back,” Sansa mumbled.

“Already?” Jeyne giggled. “But I thought we were having here so much fun…”

“I’m tired,” Sansa lied. “And I’m afraid we will get a very boring scolding if we will stay here longer.”

Jeyne wasn’t impressed by her words at all, but nodded.

“Fine,” she pouted. “But Sansa, you shouldn’t give up.”

She was talking about her soulmate. Sansa didn’t want to give him up either. She raised her hand and touched her soulmark. The petals on her cheek were blooming as always. There was no way he was dead or didn’t exist. Her father could say anything he wanted, but Sansa knew she was right.

Her beloved soulmate was alive and well. She simply _knew_ it.

_If only she knew where he was_.

“Sansa!” Jeyne hissed, dragging her out of her daydreaming. Sansa turned her head to face her friend and made a step back. Then she almost bumped into someone’s large figure.

“I beg your pardon, Ser,” Sansa replied politely, tilting her head and putting a nice smile on her face.

It didn’t work though. Out of hundreds of people hanging out around the pavilions she had to bump into the most fearsome knight she ever met.

Sansa has heard different tales about the man they’ve called the Mountain. People were whispering he was a monster, and now Sansa knew were those rumours came from. Ser Gregor Clegane was tall, much taller than his brother. He looked like a _mountain_ , but it wasn’t his stature which made people fear him and hate him.

He grabbed Sansa’s chin and Jeyne shrieked. There was a sheer rage in his eyes while he studied her face. Sansa wanted to squeak or to mumble her excuses for being so carefree. 

She didn’t even bump into him properly, why he had to act so harsh towards her?

He released her as suddenly as he grabbed her earlier and Sansa almost fell. Ser Gregor Clegane threw a look full of hate at her and stormed away. He didn’t say a word and Sansa knew it was for the best.

“He was so awful, Sansa,” Jeyne whispered. Sansa noticed her eyes were full of tears. 

She tried to smile, even if it took her effort to move her lips. She still was able to feel the tight grip of Ser Gregor’s fingers on her chin. It was awful.

“We definitely should go back,” she said instead.

  
  


***

  
  


The tourney was so magnificent that Sansa even managed to forget that awful encounter. Until the Mountain had killed a poor knight. Septa Mordane even had to take crying Jeyne away. Sansa gritted her teeth but kept watching the tourney.

She still thought it to be magnificent.

There was a feast afterwards and Sansa was seated together with prince Joffrey. He tried to engage her into a meaningful conversation and Sansa had to reply him politely. She wasn’t interested in it at all. 

Somehow everyone had already considered her to be the prince’s betrothed. Sansa didn’t like it at all. How people couldn’t see that she had a soulmate? Someone who was destined to love her. And Joffrey was well-known for his jeering attitude towards the soulmarks. There was no way he and Sansa could make a good pair.

At least the food was beyond all expectations.

When King Robert started to grow louder and louder, Sansa excused herself. She wanted to leave, but her septa fell asleep of all that wine she drank earlier.

“Don’t worry, my lady,” Joffrey smiled at her generously. “My dog will take you to the Keep. Right, dog?”

Sansa wasn’t sure if she wanted to spend her time with Sandor Clegane. She had enough _Cleganes_ for today. But her septa was asleep and it wasn’t polite to refuse the offer of the prince, so Sansa had to agree.

At least Sandor Clegane wasn’t usually as hateful as his brother appeared to be.

Apparently, not today. He was drunk and not impressed by Joffrey’s request. He told he had to stop with the wine for today, but Sansa was sure he would prefer to stay at the feast.

She walked on his left side, the one which had the most ugly scars she ever saw. Sansa wasn’t repulsed by them anymore, but decided to lower her gaze. She simply didn’t want him to think she was staring at him.

“You rode gallantly today,” she told him, trying to be a polite lady. She wanted to cheer him up a little bit. After all, she still remembered how jealous he was of her soulmark and felt sad for him. Maybe he simply needed to have someone to talk.

Oh, how wrong she was.

Sandor Clegane didn’t want any of her nice words. He didn’t grab her like his brother did, but his words were cruel. He was laughing at her pretty words and Sansa realised how gloomy this man was.

“That’s unkind,” Sansa felt herself saying and it was a huge mistake. There was rage in Sandor Clegane’s eyes now. To the point, his eyes almost matched his brother’s.

“Pretty bird with an empty head,” he spat at her, grabbing her chin with his strong fingers. Sansa was scared, but she wasn’t able not to notice that it had to be a family trait. “Chirping your nice words about the songs and knights and soulmates. All your words are pretty. Do you have some pretty songs for my brother too?”

Sansa didn’t want to offend him, so she tried to think how to reply politely. But Sandor Clegane didn’t need any reply from her. He squatted in front of her and moved the torch closer to his face.

“Maybe you have some pretty words for _this_ too?” he rasped, and Sansa knew he meant the burnt side of his face. It looked awful as always, the light of the torch making it appear like something which came straight from the seventh hell.

Sansa swallowed a lump in her throat. She felt so sorry for the man in front of her.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Sandor Clegane’s laugh resembled a dog’s bark. “Think I got it in the battle? Oh no, pretty bird. It was a _brave knight_ who made my face to look like this. But it wasn’t a battle, not at all.”

“What was it?” Sansa heard herself to say. Sandor Clegane looked at her with a sheer surprise on his face. And then the anger in his eyes faded away a little bit and gave place for sadness.

Sansa thought he will stand up and drag her away, but he started to talk instead. He told her about his brother. About the way he treated his younger sibling. About the night he ruthlessly shoved his face into a brazier.

Sansa wanted to cry. She couldn’t imagine the amount of pain the young boy had to go through. It wasn’t like in a song.

“And you know what?” Sandor Clegane snorted, leaning forward. Now Sansa was able to smell the wine on his breath. “He didn’t just punish me for taking his toy. He punished me for having something he was never able to have.”

“What are you talking about?” Sansa frowned.

“Here,” Sandor Clegane finally released her chin and pointed at the ugly side of his face. “I had a soulmark. The same pretty soulmark they’re singing in the stupid songs. I didn’t know I even had one. Looks like it appeared there just sometime before Gregor found me. I had no idea it was there, and Gregor didn’t tell me directly about it. But he shared his _little secret_ with our father, you know, so I’ve learnt about it later on anyway. Didn't mention to Gregor I know about it though. A pretty story, right? Just like in those stupid songs you like to mention to Joffrey..”

Sansa felt her stomach to flinch. It was awful, so very awful. She imagined little boy hurt so badly by his sibling and robbed of the chance to meet his soulmate, and she felt her tears to appear in the corners of her eyes.

“Your brother is no true knight,” she whispered, touching his shoulder. She hoped Sandor Clegane understood she meant it.

***

Sansa was tossing and turning in her bed. The sleep wasn’t coming and she felt sick. She touched her left cheek and tried to calm down.

At least her soulmark was there. Sansa caressed her cheek and prayed for her soulmate.

She prayed for Sandor Clegane too. She tried to imagine how her life would look like if her soulmark was erased from her cheek, but failed. It was always there with her, and just a glance at her flower of five petals made her happier.

And Sandor Clegane had to live with a knowledge about a destined soul he wasn’t able to meet because of the cruelty of his brother. It was unfair. And so painful. No wonder he became a ruthless warrior. 

Sansa closed her eyes and prayed for him to find his happiness one day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose it will be 10 chapters in the end...
> 
> Thank you for reading <3  
> Please let me know what do you think about it :')

Jeyne said she wasn’t going to see the second day of the tourney.

“It was awful”, she complained and Sansa spotted tears in the corners of her eyes. “What if someone else will be hurt or killed again?”

Ser Gregor Clegane made an unforgettable impression on her friend. And Jeyne didn’t even know  _ everything  _ about him. She had no idea how that brutal warrior had treated his younger brother when they both were children.

He wasn’t a true knight. And he didn’t deserve a soulmate. Maybe the gods knew about his future and denied him a possibility to get a soulmark.

But the gods were wrong. By not granting a soulmark to Gregor Clegane they made him even worse than he could be. Sansa closed her eyes and saw the eyes of Sandor Clegane. The eyes full of anger and pain.

And jealousy.

Now she knew why exactly he was jealous of her little flower. Maybe Sansa was known among the court as a lady whose soulmate never appeared, but at least she had her mark. And Sandor Clegane’s one was gone. Forever. As well as his chances to meet his destined soul.

He told her that he never mentioned to his brother that he knew about the soulmark. She couldn’t blame him. Gods knew what Ser Gregor could do to him because of that question.

“I cannot believe how someone like the Mountain is allowed to take a part in a tourney,” Jeyne said. “He’s full of hatred.”

He definitely was. He wasn’t ashamed to kill a poor young knight in front of the crowd. He wasn’t ashamed of being called a knight after the murder of princess Elia. He wasn’t ashamed of everything he did to his brother.

Robb would never do something like that to her or any other of his siblings. Sansa knew it for sure.

“I thought he was going to burn you just with his stare,” Jeyne whispered. “He looked at your soulmark with such a big hatred. No wonder the Gods had not given him the one.”

Her friend had the similar thoughts as her. Sansa raised her hand and touched her cheek. Her flower of five petals didn’t deserve to be hated by someone who was more a monster than a man.

  
  


***

  
  


Her father was late and Sansa was watching the preparations for the tourney on her own. She was bored. People around her were whispering and laughing about the things she wasn’t interested in.

Something was bothering her. She couldn’t clearly understand why her thoughts were dancing in her head. She touched her soulmark to find a usual comfort, but it didn’t work. As if her soulmate wasn’t at peace too.

She wished she could meet him and ease his pain. She would embrace him and tell him how much she loved him. Sansa felt her lips stretching into a tiny smile.

When her father came after he met with King Robert, he was in a sour mood. He told her he felt himself much better than before, but something was troubling his mind. Sansa suspected that her betrothal was one of those things.

She promised to give him an answer when the tourney ends. Sansa felt an unpleasant knot to appear in her stomach. She didn’t want to marry Joffrey. She wanted to wait for her soulmate. She didn’t care how long it could take her to meet him.

He was her  _ soulmate  _ and she would wait for him until her last breath.

If only her father could understand it.

  
  


***

  
  


Her eyes were glued to Sandor Clegane’s left cheek. She watched him until he finally lowered his visor and the joust began. She wanted for him to win. Ser Jaime was a skilful warrior and a handsome knight, but Sansa wanted Sandor Clegane to win.

She watched them jousting and only the final blow which unhorsed Ser Jaime she realised her palm was pressed to her soulmark. She was too worried about Sandor Clegane.

If he won, he would be the one to crown his Queen of love and beauty. It would be almost like in a song, but Sandor Clegane had no idea who his soulmate was. The harsh reality had won over the beautiful song again.

Sansa was so sad for him.

His visor was raised again and she saw the burn on his left cheek. What did his soulmark look like? Sansa knew that it had to be something that matched both him and his soulmate. Sansa tried to think of a pretty design which could work both for a young lady and a strong man like Sandor Clegane and giggled. She was sad for him but giggled anyway.

She thought of her soulmate. She always imagined him to be a young and handsome man, who would proudly carry a flower of five petals on his left cheek. Sansa smiled to herself and caught her father’s questioning stare.

Ser Loras and Ser Gregor Clegane appeared in front of the crowd and Sansa shivered. Ser Loras was young and handsome, and there were rumours that he was intentionally hiding his soulmark on his left wrist. He waved to the crowd and Sansa smiled politely.

She tried her best not to look at Gregor Clegane.

It didn’t work. He rode in front of them she felt him looking at her. Sansa swallowed and turned her head to face him. She was a strong young lady and didn’t care if there was hate in his stare.

But he never looked her in the eyes. His hateful gaze was focused on her soulmark and when Gregor Clegane lowered his visor Sansa realised she was shaking.

She watched two knights jousting and her fingers were pressed to her left cheek. Her thoughts were dancing again, and when Gregor Clegane was defeated and tried to take his revenge right in front of the crowd, his brother had appeared as if out of nowhere.

He wasn’t wearing his helmet and Sansa watched Sandor Clegane fighting against his brother in amazement. She heard some whispers behind her about the savage brothers who had no heart, nor soulmarks, and knew that people were wrong.

Sandor Clegane was _nothing_ like his brother.

They fought until King Robert came back to his senses. Gregor Clegane was furious because of his loss and the fact it was his _brother_ who dared to confront him. He raised his visor and threw another hateful glance at his brother. The same one he gifted Sansa earlier.

_ I thought he was going to burn you just with his stare _ .

Sansa felt her legs went numb. She didn’t even realise she was standing. She sunk on the bench and her father had tried to comfort her, telling that the worst was already over. He thought she was afraid of what had just happened.

Sansa wanted to laugh.

Her father had no idea  _ what  _ had just happened.

Poor Jeyne had no idea _what_ she was talking about.

Ser Loras yielded and named Sandor Clegane the winner of the tourney. He was given his prize and received loud applause from the crowd, but no one even thought of offering him a crown to name his Queen.

Sansa wanted to jump on her feet again and scream that people were so wrong about him. Sandor Clegane was a brave man, not a monster. And he had a soulmate. Someone, who was destined to him by the Gods. He just couldn’t find them because of his brother.

But his soulmate was there. Sansa knew it for sure.

She saw it in the hateful stare of  _ Ser _ Gregor.

She almost sunk her nails into the pretty flower of five petals on her cheek. Maybe she was so stupid and so naive and so wrong as always, but Sansa  _ knew  _ that she had to be the soulmate of Sandor Clegane.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'm afraid that 10 chapters won't be enough to finish this story, but I'll try my best :')  
> Thank you for reading this fanfic and for your feedback <3  
> I hope you'll like it.

It took Sansa an archery competition, a melee and a half of the feast to finally embrace the thought that Sandor Clegane was her soulmate.

Not that she was repulsed by that thought. Sansa knew she would love her soulmate no matter who he was or how he looked like, but she needed some time to make sure she wasn’t mistaken.

After all, she had no proofs. Sandor Clegane’s left cheek was a burnt mess and Sansa’s only clues were the lack of her soulmate and Gregor Clegane’s hateful attitude towards her and her soulmark. And there was no way she would approach _Ser_ Gregor and ask him about his brother’s soulmark.

He left King’s Landing almost straight after his shameful defeat anyway.

Sansa wasn’t paying too much attention to the end of the tourney, and even the feast wasn’t able to grab her attention. The food was nice and the drinks were poured generously, but Sansa was deep in her thoughts.

At least Joffrey wasn’t at the feast tonight.

Sansa put her food away and sighed.

The Lannisters weren’t present at the feast, but Sandor Clegane was. As the winner of the jousts, he was freed of his sworn shield’s duties for tonight. He also was given a seat of honour, but Sandor Clegane ignored it and was drinking himself to death among the soldiers somewhere near the doors.

Sansa tried to catch his eye for a couple of times during the feast, but he ignored her. He ignored everyone, paying attention only to his drink. Sansa wasn’t sure if he ate something. 

His behaviour wasn’t something Sansa would like to see in her soulmate, but she couldn’t blame him. He was tired. He had confronted his brother, whom he hated with his whole heart. He was named the winner of the tourney, but people kept whispering about his wicked nature behind his back.

Sansa hoped Sandor Clegane didn’t hear any of those words tonight.

She touched her soulmark and sighed again. She would give anything just to comfort him right now. To tell him he wasn’t a monster people thought him to be. To lift his spirit. To tell him he wasn’t _alone_ anymore.

All she could do was watching him from afar. But at least she was _sure_ that Sandor Clegane was her soulmate. She wasn’t alone either.

  
  


***

  
  


The feast was almost over when Sansa realised that Sandor Clegane was gone. She bit inside of her cheek and quickly thought about what she can do. She saw him in his corner just some moments ago and now he was gone.

She wanted to talk to him so much.

Sansa had no idea what she could say to him. He was drunk. He would probably think she was trying to mock him. Sandor Clegane was a strong warrior and formidable man, but the last night made Sansa to see him in a completely different light.

He told her he would kill her if she shared her secret with anyone else. Sansa knew he didn’t mean it. He tried to shut her up, to make her feel fear when facing him. It didn’t work. She spent enough time in his company (even if Joffrey was always there as well) to understand that he wasn’t a monster he was pretending to be in front of the others. She didn’t care what people thought of him.

She knew he wasn’t a monster. Instead, he was her soulmate. At least in Sansa’s mind.

There was only one way to find out if she was right.

Touching the mark on your soulmate’s body was the answer. That’s what her mother told her when she was a child. Sansa heard that sometimes people were drawing fake marks on their children faces or hands to get them a good match. And a single touch was able to dispel all doubts.

Sandor Clegane didn’t have his soulmark anymore. Sansa hoped that a touch to his left cheek could work.

Or she would have to make him to touch _her_ cheek. Her face flushed in an embarrassment immediately. Sansa shook her head and looked around.

Her father was busy talking to one of the lords. Arya didn’t pay any attention to what was happening around her. She was still sour that her soulmate wasn’t allowed to join them for the tourney and the feast. No one paid attention to Sansa.

So she snuck away. She hoped Sandor Clegane went back to the Red Keep.

  
  


***

  
  


It had to be her lucky day. First, she found out who her soulmate was. And now she simply bumped into him at the foot of the serpentine steps. He fell and cursed, an open wineskin dropped out of his hands. Sandor Clegane was way drunker than yesterday.

“What’re you doin’ here, girl,” he slurred and tried to stand up. It was an unsuccessful attempt and Sandor Clegane cursed again.

Someone could say that Sansa was punished by the gods and had to endure such an awful man as her soulmate. Sansa knew it wasn’t the case. Maybe Sandor Clegane was a rough man, but he wasn’t a drunkard or monster. He just had too much wine after the tourney. He went through several jousts for the past two days, as well as had to face his past and his brother in a battle.

That’s why he was so drunk he couldn’t even focus his eyesight on her.

“I was looking for you, my lord,” she answered. She knew he hated any titles, but it was the only way she could address him. She wanted to say his name, but it was something too inappropriate.

At least for now.

Sandor Clegane blinked and laughed. He sounded like a barking dog again, but Sansa didn’t care. She would prefer him laughing than rasping his curses or insults.

“That’s right,” he replied thickly. “All pretty birds are looking for some drunken dogs at the end of the day. How could I forget about it.”

He was trying to mock her. Sansa decided she won’t take it too personally. 

“You left the feast too early and I was worried where have you disappeared,” she tried to explain. Her words made Sandor Clegane snort again.

“What, did the lavish feast was lacking my face so much you had to come to this damned place by yourself? You are an empty-headed bird for sure, girl.”

“It was the feast to celebrate your victory,” Sansa snapped back.

Sandor Clegane blinked as if he had just heard the most astonishing thing.

Then he threw his head back and burst into laughter mixed with some drunken hiccups.

“My _victory_! Are you stupid, girl? I could place all my winnings on the fact none of those buggers at your feast was happy to see my mug there. They came there just to stuff their guts and drunk themselves to death after watching some buggers fighting in front of them. That’s how the tourneys work, aren’t they?”

Sandor Clegane was too drunk. Sansa bit her lower lip. There was no chance she could talk to him about them being soulmates. He simply wouldn’t listen to her.

“I think you need to have some rest, my lord,” she replied politely, as if she didn’t hear anything he'd just said.

“ _I_ think I need more wine,” Sandor Clegane cackled. “And a whore. I am a buggering _winner_. I have my money, they won’t be able to laugh at me now or usher me out for being too unpresentable for their crummy place.”

He was talking to himself while trying to get up again. Sansa didn’t say a word, but when he was finally back on his feet and was about to move on, she reached her hand and grabbed his arm.

She had no idea what she was doing, but it felt like the only right thing.

“The hells are you doing?” Sandor Clegane rasped, spinning on his heel. His eyes were dark and drunk and full of anger. As always.

Sansa wanted to hope there will be something else after he discovered she was his soulmate.

She wanted to use a chance and raised her hand to touch his left cheek, but Sandor Clegane was faster. Even being _that_ drunk. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the wall.

“Are you _dumb_ , girl?” he almost growled. His face was even closer than yesterday and Sansa swallowed. “Hasn’t your septa taught you that it’s so-o dangerous to be so frivolous when you’re with a drunken man?”

He was slurring again and pressed his body into hers. Sansa knew he was trying to frighten her again. Just like yesterday. Sandor Clegane wasn’t a man who would hurt a young lady. He was _nothing_ like his brother.

“I’m not dumb,” she replied stubbornly. Her voice was trembling a little bit, but Sansa didn’t want to run away. Sandor Clegane was her soulmate. She didn’t need to fear him.

“Yes you _are_ ,” he snorted and finally released her right wrist. He was still pinning her to the wall and his free hand ran up her waist. Sansa squeezed her eyes and reminded herself he was just trying to scare her.

She had to trust him. She had to try.

Or maybe Sandor Clegane was right and she was just a dumb and empty-headed bird who believed in her beautiful songs. These songs had taught her that a man couldn't hurt his soulmate. Sandor Clegane moved his hand to the bottom side of her breast and Sansa wished the songs were right.

“Or maybe you were looking for me so I wouldn’t humble myself before some whore?” Sandor Clegane rasped in her ear. His breath smelled of wine and his hand squeezed her breast. Sansa felt her breath to quicken. She was feeling herself rather queer.

He wasn’t going to hurt her. She knew that it wasn’t difficult for a man of his stature to get an advantage of any woman. But if he was here to force himself upon her he wouldn’t spend his time on slurring and frightening. He was nothing like his brother.

She _trusted_ him.

Sansa swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to calm down. Her right hand was freed of Sandor Clegane’s grip. She opened her eyes and reached out her head, cupping his left cheek.

  
  


***

  
  


There were no words to describe what she had just felt.

As if her soul was suddenly bared and turned into many thin strings. Like the one of the harp.

And a strong hand was touching these strings. Carefully. Cautiously. Lovingly.

And her soul was singing.

  
  


***

  
  


“Can you touch my cheek?” Sansa heard herself to whisper. She knew her eyes were wide open. She saw it in Sandor Clegane’s stare.

He looked at her as if she was the biggest brat in the whole Westeros.

“You _are_ dumb,” he rasped. He wasn’t touching her breast anymore and Sansa felt his body had tensed as soon as she cupped his left cheek.

“ _Please_ ,” Sansa added. Her heart was beating so fast she was afraid it would break free of her chest any moment. “My _left_ cheek.”

“Want to close your eyes and pretend it’s your bloody soulmate touching you?” Sandor Clegane barked out a laugh. “Would you want me to touch your buggering _left_ cheek when I will fuck you bloody right here?”

“You won’t,” Sansa said. Now she was confident of her words. “Because you’re not your brother.”

“What a stupid bird,” Sandor Clegane snorted. He didn’t move and Sansa wanted to scream at him. She felt the calloused surface of his face under her palm. Right on the place were his soulmark was many years ago. Where a _flower of five petals_ was many years ago.

“ _Please_ ,” she repeated stubbornly.

Sandor Clegane made another one mocking snort. But then he freed her other wrist and suddenly his hand was on her left cheek.

Sansa felt as if the whole world around them had stopped.

Sandor Clegane’s eyes had widened instantly. They were dark and drunk, but he looked as if he sobered up straight after cupping her cheek. He didn’t move, he didn’t say a word. He turned to stone and only his eyes were still alive.

Sansa looked at him and saw all the emotions in his stare quickly changing one another. The anger was replaced by shock. Then the amazement came. It was replaced by fear almost straight away.

And then the fear was gone and Sandor Clegane’s eyes were full of pain.

He made a strange sob. Sansa opened her mouth to say at least some words of reassurance, but he let her go of his grip and rushed away too fast for a drunken man.

He was gone in a blink of an eye. Sansa slid down a wall and closed her eyes.

Sandor Clegane _was_ her soulmate.

She found her _soulmate_.

Sansa didn’t realise she was crying.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are happening, yay!  
> Thank you for reading and commenting on this story :3  
> Maybe I will have to expand it for 1-2 chapters more... Ugh...

Sansa’s soul was singing. She wanted to sing too, but the breakfast table wasn’t the right place for it. Her father had joined them, but Sansa saw that his mind was somewhere else.

Maybe it was because of her potential betrothal. Sansa knew she needed to tell her father about Sandor Clegane. She had no idea how he would react, but Sandor Clegane was her soulmate. It was something her father had to put up with. There was no chance she would marry Joffrey now.

But first, she needed to talk to Sandor Clegane. Hopefully, he will be more sober than yesterday. Sansa thought of the last night’s events and her soul was flinching every time she remembered the pain in his eyes. She hoped it wasn’t because he didn’t want her as his soulmate.

Her father went for a meeting with someone from the Small Council and Arya run away to her lesson. Sansa thought how she could approach Sandor Clegane when an invitation from prince Joffrey arrived. He asked if Sansa was in a mood for a stroll in the gardens.

She wasn’t, but she agreed. Joffrey was never seen without his sworn shield even inside the Red Keep.

But it wasn’t Sandor Clegane who guarded the prince today. Sansa didn’t like the look Ser Boros gave her, but she had to accept his presence.

Joffrey was as nice and gallant as he always was with her, but Sansa felt herself uncomfortable. Was it because Sandor Clegane wasn’t following them like a mute shadow?

“I’m sorry to ask you this, my lord,” she said after Joffrey finally stopped blabbering about the splendour of the feast which awaited them on his nameday. “But I was just curious why your sworn shield is not guarding you today.”

Joffrey made a wry face.

“Is my lady not impressed by Ser Boros?” he snorted. “To think that a pretty lady like you is missing an ugly mug of my dog.”

Sandor Clegane wasn’t a dog. He was a brave man and her soulmate. Something inside Sansa wanted to spit it in Joffrey’s face. But she had to be wise.

“I am just wondering,” she tried to calm down. “After all, your sworn shield had won a tourney. The whole court is talking about him.”

“Whatever,” Joffrey shrugged. “Apparently, my dog was so happy after finally winning a tourney that he had drunk oneself into oblivion. And there’s no way I would ask my lady to spend her time in the company of a dog who is stinking of wine.”

“Oh,” Sansa replied. That was the only thing she could force herself to say to Joffrey.

“But don’t worry, my lady,” Joffrey put his hand on her elbow and Sansa flinched. “He will receive his punishment for being so reckless. Now, let’s talk about something more enjoyable. Regarding the feast…”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Sansa rubbed her temple. “I think the hot weather made me a little bit weak. I hope you won’t mind if I returned to my chambers.”

Joffrey wasn’t happy by her words, but walked her back to the tower of the Hand. Sansa thanked him and returned to her chamber. She needed some time just for herself.

  
  


***

  
  


“Sansa,” her father appeared on the threshold of her bedroom with a smile. “I think it’s time for us to talk.”

It was about the betrothal, Sansa knew it. She sat on her bed and adjusted her dress.

“Of course, father,” she said with a sincere smile. After all, she also had some news to share. Too bad she wasn’t able to talk to Sandor Clegane first.

Her father seated himself in the chair and locked his fingers on his knees.

“As we agreed before,” he cleared his throat. “Today is the day when I will go to Robert to discuss with him the betrothal between you and Joffrey.”

Sansa nodded. That was exactly what she and her father talked about earlier.

“I have no idea why it took you so long,” her father shook his head. “I know you have a soulmark, but no one ever heard from your soulmate.”

It wasn’t true. Sansa thought about Sandor Clegane and felt the corners of her mouth stretching into a tiny smile. Somehow it was a little bit strange concept, but she was missing him. In the same way, she used to miss her faceless soulmate.

She hoped she could sneak out of the tower of the Hand after this conversation with her father and make her way to Sandor Clegane’s chambers.

No. Sansa shook her head. He was her soulmate. She had to call him by his name even in her mind.

“I just hoped I could find him at the tourney,” she answered to her father with a shy smile. “Just like in the songs.”

_Sandor_ (a strange shivers run down her spine when she called him just by his name) won the tourney just like in the songs. He didn’t crown her as a Queen of love and beauty like the heroes of those tales, nor that Sansa learned about their connection because of the mark on his handsome face. But still, it _was_ like in the songs.

Maybe even better. Sansa knew she won’t be able to forget _that_ feeling when she touched his cheek for the first time until her last breath. She hoped _Sandor_ thought the same.

“My beautiful girl,” her father was smiling, but it was a sad smile now. “Trust me, it pains me so much that you had to realise that life is not a song because of your soulmark.”

He understood her wrong. Of course he had, he had no idea that Sansa was able to meet her soulmate last night.

“Life is not a song,” she agreed and mischievous spark appeared in her eyes. “It’s much better.”

There was a sheer confusion on her father’s face.

“What do you mean, Sansa?”

She smiled and leaned forward.

“I’ve found my soulmate,” she said and her body warmed just at the thought of _Sandor_.

Her father’s usually calm eyes were full of shock.

“What do you mean, Sansa?” he had to cough to catch back his breath. “What do you mean you found him?”

Sansa smiled proudly. She touched her little flower and hoped she would be able to see _Sandor_ very soon.

“It’s a long story, father,” she smiled, caressing her soulmark. “But now I know who my soulmate is. So there’s no need of arranging the betrothal between me and Joffrey.”

Her father frowned. Sansa knew he was facing a difficult choice. He would be happy to make the marriage between her and his best friend’s son to happen. She hoped he would be way happier to see her marrying her soulmate.

Her father was a humble follower of the Old Gods. There was no way he could deny something these Gods intended for his daughter.

“And who is your soulmate?” he asked and Sansa noticed a little wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. She hoped he won’t mind.

“Sandor Clegane,” she said and the warmth had moved to her chest.

Her father said nothing. He was eyeing her with an emotionless stare. It felt as if hours had passed after Sansa told him the name of her soulmate, and her father was still quiet. Sansa felt her hands sweating and hoped everything will be fine.

  
  


***

  
  


Everything was _a mess_.

Sansa was told she had to stay in the tower of the Hand, but she managed to sneak out. She had to _disobey_ her father and escape her bedroom. She knew he won’t be happy at all, but she needed to see _Sandor_ urgently.

Her father didn’t believe her. Sansa wasn’t able to blame him, after all, there was no visible evidence to prove the fact that it was Sandor Clegane who appeared to be her soulmate. The worst thing was that her father decided she had lied to him, using a name of someone with a disfigured left cheek to avoid her betrothal.

Sansa wasn’t able to blame him for that too. But she still felt betrayed.

She needed to see Sandor _urgently_.

It didn’t take her long to find his chamber, but she had to be very careful to get there unnoticed. Almost everyone in the Red Keep assumed there was no way she won’t be named Joffrey’s betrothed. And getting spotted near the chambers of the prince’s _sworn shield_ would create a big mess. Sansa had to be careful.

She stopped in front of Sandor’s door and tried to calm down. It didn’t work, her heart was beating too fast for her delicate body. Sansa thought she was about to die.

There was no way she could die before meeting Sandor. She took a deep breath and knocked on the wooden door. It didn’t take him long to answer, Sansa heard the heavy steps from the inside and her body set on fire instantly. She even had to lick her lips.

She wanted to see Sandor so much.

He opened the door and Sansa had to tilt her head up a little bit. She knew she had to say something, but all the words had left her mind. So she simply smiled.

There was a now-familiar shock in Sandor’s eyes again. And the pain. Too much pain for a formidable and fearless man like him. As if he was afraid of _her_.

“You shouldn’t be here, girl” he rasped and closed the door.

His voice was full of pain. And hearing it Sansa knew there was no way she would go away now. She was a stubborn young lady who always did everything to achieve what she wanted.

Now she wanted to talk to her soulmate. She knocked on the door again and again. It looked like Sandor decided to ignore her presence, so Sansa was knocking and knocking on the wooden surface.

When the door opened again, the smile on her face was a victorious one.

“What do you want?” Sandor rasped at her. He was trying to look daunting as always, but Sansa noticed his hands were trembling a little bit.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she answered, hoping there was enough warmth in her voice.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about,” Sandor crossed his hands on his chest. “Go away.”

“I believe there _are_ things we need to discuss,” Sansa pouted at him and then added, “ _Sandor_.”

It was a mistake. His mouth twitched viciously and he grabbed Sansa’s delicate arm in a strong grip, bending forward and lowering his head. His breath was still smelling of wine, though Sansa realised it wasn’t as strong as yesterday. She hoped he didn’t have a drop this morning.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeated on her ear. He tried to startle her, but his voice and his breath sent shivers down her spine. Sansa gasped and wanted to close her eyes, but stopped herself from doing so in a very last moment. She needed to see his face now.

“I _know_ I should,” she replied in a hushed voice. “I wanted to see you since I woke up, you know.”

“Then you are a dumb bird for sure,” Sandor replied. “A very dumb little bird.”

He was mocking her, but the anger had left his voice. Sansa realised he yielded up and smiled. She was very proud of her little victory.

A part of her wanted to cup Sandor’s cheek once again. But she patiently waited until Sandor checked their surrounding and dragged her inside his little chamber, barring the wooden door.

“What did you want to talk about?” he grumbled, turning around and looking at her.

_Then_ she stepped closer and cupped his left cheek. Maybe Sandor was right and she _was_ a dumb little bird, but it felt like the only right thing to do now.

When he slowly raised his right hand and touched her soulmark his hand was still trembling. He didn’t say a word, but Sansa knew everything that was on his soul. She saw it in his eyes.

She liked to see that the pain in them was slowly changing into the hope.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...or maybe I will be able to fit everything in 10 chapters as I wanted, hmm...  
> Thank you everyone <3

“What do you want to do now?” Sandor asked. He leaned against the wall and eyed Sansa with a mix of emotions in his stare. She was sitting on a small wooden chair in the middle of the room.

Sandor’s bedroom wasn’t a big one. He had just the most necessary furniture here, but Sansa liked to be here. It was a calm place.

“I don’t know,” she said. She honestly had no idea what they should do next. “I wish we could just proceed with everything soulmates usually do.”

“Which is?” Sandor cocked his eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched in a nasty smirk. Sansa sighed. He was trying to scare her again. Or maybe to alienate her. As if he still thought that Sansa could be happier without him.

The hope in his eyes was betraying him.

“Which is asking my father for my hand, for example,” she said with a smile.

“Still want to pick my buggering mug over the handsome prince?” Sandor barked out a laugh.

“I don’t need a _b-buggering_ prince,” Sansa snapped at him, her cheeks flushed. “I want to be with my soulmate and that’s it.”

Sandor’s grin disappeared straight away. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“You’re making the biggest mistake in your life, _Sansa_ ,” he said and sighed again. It was the first time he said her name without a trace of mocking and Sansa’s cheeks heated up even more. It was so strange to react to the sound of her name like that, but Sansa didn’t care.

She would listen to Sandor saying her name for _days_.

“I will make the biggest mistake in my life if I will choose someone over my soulmate,” she said and her voice was strangely confident.

“Even if your soulmate is an ugly brute, loathed by almost everyone in Westeros?”

Sandor tried to make a jape, but there was that stupid pain in his voice again. Sansa hated that pain, as well as everyone who made Sandor feel himself that way. She wanted to be the one who could hunt that pain away.

“You’re not ugly,” she shook her head. “And if people can’t see a man who is hiding behind the walls you built around yourself that’s their problem.”

“Little bird thinks she’s a smart one,” Sandor snorted, but there was a quiet gratitude in his eyes now. “And you think that you can see _that_ man?”

“I think I could,” Sansa replied with a shy smile. “If only he stopped pushing me away and embraced my thoughts and feelings.”

“ _Feelings_ ,” Sandor snorted again and his good ear suddenly reddened a little bit. Sansa tried to suppress a giggle, but failed shamelessly.

“Feelings,” she confirmed with a nod. “The ones you would mention to my father when asking for my hand.”

“Your father will kick me out of his solar as soon as he saw my mug there,” Sandor shook his head. “You told me he didn’t believe you.”

“He didn’t,” Sansa sighed. “That’s why I think that both of us should appear in front of him and…”

“And get kicked out of his solar together, I got it,” Sandor cut her off with a bark. “He won’t listen to me, Sansa. Everyone across Westeros knows me as a ruthless warrior who isn’t capable of anything good _just because_ I lack a tiny mark on my body. And trust me, he won’t believe my story about my face and Gregor.”

“ _I_ believed it,” Sansa retorted.

“That’s because you are a pure and gentle soul,” Sandor said and Sansa blushed. “And you heard my story before stuffing your head with the thoughts of us being destined to each other. Your father will think you made it up to avoid your betrothal to Joffrey and won me over to play along.”

Sansa chewed her lower lip.

“Still,” she said stubbornly. “We should talk to him about our connections. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Sandor Clegane nodded. “Maybe never.”

“ _Sandor_ ,” she pouted at his words. “If you will keep talking like this I could decide you aren’t happy to have me as your soulmate.”

Sandor looked at her if she was the biggest moron in the whole Westeros. Then he quickly crossed the distance between them and cupped her left cheek. He was towering above her and Sansa had to tilt her head to meet his eyes.

Suddenly, a very _gentle_ eyes.

“I would be the biggest fool if I wasn’t happy to have you as my soulmate,” he said in a hushed tone. At first, Sansa thought it lacked any emotion, but then she realised that she simply never heard Sandor talking without anger, apathy or mockery in his voice. “ _You_ should be the one to question the decisions of those gods who decided to connect us for the rest of our lives.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Sansa’s mouth stretched into a smile. “I always dreamed to meet my soulmate and have him by my side for the _rest of our lives_. And you have no idea how happy I am now.”

“Silly little bird,” Sandor’s laugh was sad now. He moved his hand a little bit and run the thumb over Sansa’s suddenly dry lips. She had no idea that a light touch could make her head swimming. A strange warmth appeared in her belly and a little bit lower. Sansa wanted to lick her lips but stopped herself in a very last moment.

“Maybe I am,” she finally said when Sandor moved his thumb away. “But I don’t care. I am happy because you are my soulmate. That’s all.”

She finally licked her lips and Sandor squeezed his eyes shut. Sansa heard him taking a deep breath, the same way she was doing before saying or doing something important.

He leaned down in a swift motion and suddenly he was so close Sansa was able to see his scars even better than two nights ago when he showed them on purpose. But she didn’t flinch or gasp in horror. His eyes were shut, but she smiled anyway.

And then he _shyly_ touched his lips to hers.

  
  


***

  
  


Sansa always knew that she loved her soulmate. That she missed him and cherished him, even if she never met him.

Sandor fell asleep on the top of his bed. He was still tired after two days of jousts and all that wine he managed to drank yesterday. He mentioned that Sansa could simply unbar the door and leave him be whenever she wanted.

He also held her and kissed her again and again. His movements were awkward and kisses were shy, and Sansa giggled at the memory of them. She was lying on the edge of Sandor’s bed and watching his relaxed features. She wanted to reach out her hand and touch him, but she didn’t want to wake him up.

She was even afraid to breathe while lying next to him.

Sandor Clegane was a very tough man. He tried to look harsher than he was. He was trying to scare away people on purpose.

He also trembled while touching her and there was a shy smile on his damaged lips when Sansa made a small moan after his kisses for the first time. Sansa knew he would fuss and bark if she called him sweet. But Gods, he _was_ sweet.

They just simply needed some time to get together.

She looked at him and touched the flower of five petals on her cheek. It was so strange to admit, but Sansa knew her soul has already loved Sandor.

She could hear her soul singing.

She tried not to think of what her father would think about her absence from the tower of the Hand. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be too harsh on a poor Ned... He will be okay.  
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> (Sometimes music I'm listening to while working on my fanfics can affect the way of writing and the mood of my story. Today I had Thomas Bergersen's 'Sun' album playing on the background, so...)

Her father wasn’t angry. Neither he was disappointed in Sansa’s behaviour.

“Clegane, open the bloody door _now_.”

Her father was _furious_.

Sansa woke up to the banging sound on the door. It took her a little bit of time to realise where exactly she was. She fell asleep next to Sandor, somehow he managed to squeeze her delicate hand in his huge palm. He was awake too, and the expression in his eyes was far from relaxed or calmed.

Sansa didn’t want him to open the door, she didn’t want to face her father. They haven’t done anything scandalous, she simply fell asleep next to her soulmate. There was no reason for her father to be so furious.

She hoped her father would be able to understand her feelings. After all, he had his soulmate. He should know that she was happening inside her soul.

He didn’t. Her father promised to report everything to the King and dragged Sansa back in the tower of the Hand. He didn’t even give her a chance to explain everything what was going between her and Sandor. Sansa wanted to cry, but she swallowed her tears. It wasn’t the right time to show her weakness.

“I’m simply shocked by your behaviour,” her father told her when she was back in her room. “What in the seventh hell you were thinking about when you ended up in that… _Clegane’s_ chamber?”

“I wanted to see my _soulmate_ ,” Sansa snapped back.

Her father made a painful groan.

“ _Sansa_ ,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve already told you. I won’t buy your tale you made up to avoid your betrothal with Joffrey.”

He said exactly what Sandor was warning her about earlier. He said exactly what Sansa was afraid to hear. She clenched her fists.

“It’s not a _tale_ , father,” she said through gritted teeth. She was a little lady he learnt her place in the society and among her family members. Now she simply kicked that little lady out of her soul.

She was ready to fight for her soulmate.

Her father eyed her with a strange scowl and stormed out of her bedroom. He even locked her door from the outside. Sansa grunted and collapsed on her bed, staring into the high ceiling.

She was waiting for her soulmate for so long. And after she finally met him there was no chance she would give up so easily.

  
  


***

  
  


The dinner was brought inside her bedroom and then the chambermaid left. Sansa didn’t touch her food, she wasn’t hungry at all. Instead, she felt a strange longing for Sandor. It wasn’t the same longing she felt when she was caressing her flower of five petals and wishing for her soulmate to show up.

It was something else. Deeper and way more intense. Were her parents feeling the same when they were separated for too long? Maybe her father was so grumpy and distrustful because of the pain that longing brought him.

Sansa rolled on her side and rolled oneself up into a ball. She closed her eyes and remembered the warmth she felt when she woke up next to Sandor. She liked lying next to him. Her body wasn’t pressed into his (as she always imagined two lovers would lie together), but when she held her breath she was able to feel his heartbeat. She liked that sound very much.

She wanted to be next to him. Not lying on her bed in her chamber in the tower of the Hand. She wished he would appear and steal her from there. Just like in one of the songs, were a young man stole his soulmate from the evil King.

Sometimes life was better than in any song. Sometimes it was a huge mess, just like now. Of course, Sandor didn’t come. He was Joffrey’s sworn shield, he had his duties. And her father promised to tell King Robert about Sandor’s disgraceful behaviour.

Sansa felt salty tears appearing in her throat and eyes. She pinched her wrist and decided not to cry. She wanted to pinch her left cheek too and ended up cupping it instead. It wasn’t nothing like Sandor’s touch, but at least she was able to calm down.

She touched her mouth with her fingertips too. It was _nothing_ like Sandor’s shy, but at the same time hungry kisses. Sansa sighed and closed her eyes. She wanted to see him so much.

  
  


***

  
  


When she woke up it was early morning. Her stomach growled and Sansa ate some fruits and cold meat from the plate her chambermaid brought her yesterday. The door was still locked and Sansa felt nervousness.

Her father came to visit her before breakfast was served. Sansa couldn’t say she was happy to see him.

“I didn’t tell Robert about you and Clegane,” he said as soon as he closed the door behind him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

His words calmed her down a little bit, but Sansa was irritated nevertheless.

“Why don’t you believe me?” she asked before he could say something.

Her father seated himself in a cosy armchair and eyed her. His eyes were tired and full of nervousness.

“Because I can’t,” he said after he was quiet for some moments. “Try to put yourself in my shoes, Sansa. I was trying to help you to recover from the thought that your soulmate is nowhere to be found. I even arranged a match between you and the _future King of Seven Kingdoms_. And then you tell me that your soulmate is a man who is known as a man who was able to become a ruthless warrior just because he lacked a soulmark. Who is as soulless as many other soldiers. As his cruel brother. How in the name of the Gods I could be able to believe you?”

“Sandor isn’t soulless,” Sansa heard herself to _hiss_. “He became, as you say, a ruthless warrior because people were expecting him to turn into a monster simply because he lost his soulmark.”

“He never had it, Sansa,” her father shook his head. “He would tell someone otherwise.”

“He told _me_.”

“Everyone could come up with such a sweet story just to force himself on a young maid,” her father retorted. “Especially because he was aware that you have a soulmark, but your soulmate was missing for _years_. He could simply trick you.”

“Then why he still didn’t force himself on me?” Sansa screwed up her face.

“You were in his chambers.”

“I was,” Sansa clicked her tongue. “And _nothing_ happened between us.”

She decided not to mention their kisses. After all, they weren’t something she would be happy to talk about even with her father. They were too important for her.

“It still isn’t a proof that he is not tricking you,” her father shrugged. “He’s a well-known brute, and his brother…”

“Don’t talk about his _brother_ ,” Sansa snapped, cutting him off. Her father’s eyes widened and Sansa covered her mouth.

“Sansa…”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, lowering her gaze. “But please. Don’t talk about that man. Sandor is nothing like his brother.”

Her father shook his head.

“I’ve heard there was a hatred between Clegane brothers,” he mumbled mostly to himself. “Nevermind, Sansa. But still. The story you are telling me, or the one Clegane told you, they both doesn’t seem too realistic. Clegane never mentioned his soulmark not to the King, not to the Lannisters. And he never said anything about the flower of five petals on your cheek.”

“Because he had no idea how his soulmark looked like,” Sansa said and swallowed. She didn’t want to share Sandor’s secret without his approval. She never believed in his threat to kill her. She knew it simply would be unfair.

“You see,” her father almost _snorted_. “That only confirms that he made up the whole story. If there was a soulmark on his left cheek, then how he had no idea how it looked like.”

“Ask his _brother_ ,” Sansa said through her teeth. She was tired. Her father didn’t believe her, he simply didn’t _want_ to believe her. She wanted him to go and be alone in her room.

  
No. Not alone. She wanted to be with Sandor. She wanted to touch his left cheek and feel _that_ wonderful feeling, which said her way more than any words ever could. She hoped Sandor missed her too.

***

She was allowed to go out of her bedroom before dinner was served. Her father had a meeting with one of the Lords in his solar and septa Mordane was too busy explaining Arya that a young lady with a soulmate wasn’t allowed to behave like a street urchin. Jeyne was nowhere to be seen as well.

Sansa wished she could sneak out and go straight to Sandor’s chamber. It was too risky, but no one could forbid her from dreaming. She sighed and went to the kennels to check on Lady. Her poor direwolf was locked there. Just like Sansa was locked in her bedroom without a chance of meeting with Sandor.

She decided to went for a stroll after, but when she was about to turn around and go out of the kennels, she was caught into a tight embrace.

Sansa knew she should shriek and cry for help. But the only thing she felt was a familiar warmth. And a feeling of safety. Lady yapped and wagged her tail.

“Sansa,” she heard Sandor to growl in her hair. He _was_ missing her, she felt it. He embraced her from behind, pressing her into his strong body and Sansa relaxed. She raised her hands and put them over his arms. She even closed her eyes.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered and felt Sandor’s grip to tighten. His body was tense, but his embrace was full of tenderness and protection.

Sandor growled in response. Sansa wanted to turn around and touch his left cheek. And also kiss him, but his embrace was too strong and he wasn’t moving at all.

“Did you miss me too?” she heard herself to say.

“You can’t bloody imagine how much,” he said, pressing his face in her hair. His voice was muffled, but Sansa was able to understand everything he said. Her face was suddenly hot.

“So you finally threw away your doubts regarding our bond,” she tried to make a joke. It earned her another growl.

“I never missed anyone as much as now,” he whispered those words so quiet as if he didn’t want Sansa to hear him. But she heard everything. Her heart was beating so fast Sansa was sure even Lady was able to hear it.

She stroked her thumb over Sandor’s arm and smiled. She wanted to kiss him.

“I wish I could steal you away,” Sandor grumbled.

“Like in the songs?” she asked with a smile.

“Don’t know those bloody songs,” Sandor snorted. “Forgot them after my mug was burnt. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

He eased off his embrace and Sansa was finally able to turn around and face him. It was dark in the kennels, but she didn’t need the light to see his features. She knew them by heart.

Sandor cupped her left cheek eagerly and stroke her soulmark with his thumb straight away. She leaned into his touch and smiled.

“Please,” she closed her eyes. “Do it.”

“Do _what_?” Sandor leaned down as if wanting to kiss her.

Sansa’s grin became wider.

“Steal me,” she whispered. She knew he would understand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the end, I decided to split the last part, so it won't be too overloaded and separated it into two logical parts. Hope you won't mind it :')  
> Thank you for reading and your support :3

Of course, Sandor granted her wish. He looked at Sansa if she went mad at first.

“Do you _really_ want to run away?” he asked with a frown. “Do you want to run away with _me_?”

“But of course,” Sansa smiled and gently touched her lips to his. It wasn’t a proper kiss, she wanted him to feel her smile. Sandor grumbled that almost two days in a lockdown played a bad trick on her mind. He said that none of the wise young ladies would ask _him_ to steal her.

“I’m not just a young lady, I am your soulmate,” Sansa pouted. “And maybe I’m not so wise when it is about _love_.”

“ _Love_ ,” Sandor snorted. His voice was so vulnerable and Sansa’s heart died within her.

Her soul was in love with Sandor. She knew she was also falling for him. There was no other option for her. She kissed him properly this time, her lips still stretched into a wide smile.

Lady growled and turned her back at them.

  
  


***

  
  


Her father left King’s Landing for some days. He said there was an important matter he needed to deal with and promised to come back as soon as he could. Arya was spending her days with her betrothed and Nymeria. The rest of their household was quite busy with their things, and even Joffrey stopped paying any attention to her.

It was a perfect time for them to run away. Sansa prepared a little bundle and where she put the most necessary things. Two plain dresses, a nightgown, some spare smallclothes, her wooden brush, and some pieces of jewellery. Sandor had his tourney winnings, but she decided to take something too.

They’ve decided to leave at night. Sandor was waiting for her in the kennels. He didn’t have any bags with him and Sansa decided he already put them on his horse. He put on just his light armour, but his huge sword was attached to his belt as always. Sansa hoped he won’t need it.

“Are you sure you want to go?” he asked her when Sansa threw her arms around his neck and placed a little kiss on his left cheek.

“ _Sandor_ ,” she pouted and frowned. “I’ve already told you. I want to be with _you_.”

Sandor sighed and carefully broke their embrace.

“Give me a moment,” he said, turning around and heading towards the stall where Lady was locked. “I need to free your _lovely_ direwolf.”

As soon as Lady was freed, she jumped around Sandor and tried to give his face a good lick.

“Calm down,” Sansa heard him growl quietly. “Only your mistress can do it, understood?”

Lady lolled her tongue out and gave Sansa a stare of disapproval. When Sandor was next to her again, she raised herself on tiptoes and kissed his cheek again. Just to fulfil his wish.

***

It was a miracle that they were able to escape from the Red Keep and the city without any trouble. Sandor put an old cloak with a hood on her and said she will have to act like a _loose woman_ if someone will ask them about her presence on his horse.

Nobody cared. The guards were too impressed by a huge direwolf running next to them they didn’t pay any attention to her. Sandor quickly explained to the guards with a smirk that he was going to take the beast out of the castle walls to get a little exercise.

The guards were too busy freaking out because of yapping Lady and none of them paid any attention to a lady the infamous Hound was holding in his arms. Sansa decided it was a good sign.

Stranger, Sandor’s huge stallion, was constantly snorting at direwolf’s presence around him.

“Calm down, boy,” Sandor said with a surprisingly gentle voice. “She’s a friend, you know.”

Stranger didn’t consider Lady as his friend, but at least started to ignore her happy yapping. Sandor embraced Sansa and pushed her closer to his body.

“Try to get some sleep,” he whispered in her ear. “If we don’t want to be caught it’s better for us to wait before we will be able to make our first stop. Maybe tomorrow afternoon.”

Sansa nodded and hugged him. Sandor was so warm, she closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. She liked it. A dreamy smile appeared on her face and Sansa sighed.

“I hope they won’t find us too early,” she said quietly.

“I thought our plan was to not get caught at all,” Sandor snorted. 

“That’s too,” Sansa nodded. “But my father could ask King Robert to send his soldiers to look after us. When he will be back in the Red Keep, of course.”

She wanted to hope that with her father away nobody would be able to connect her disappearance with Sandor’s absence by Joffrey’s side. She also hoped her father won’t get too mad because of her decision.

Sansa was a dutiful daughter, she wrote a long letter and left it on father’s table in his solar. But she was also a stubborn young lady who just had met her soulmate. She wanted to be with him no matter what it could take.

If running away was her only chance to be with Sandor, she had to proceed with that option. She knew there was nothing for her to be afraid of. She had her direwolf by her side. She was riding with the strongest warrior in the whole Westeros. Who also appeared to be her soulmate.

Sansa smiled and pressed herself even closer to Sandor. His body was a little bit tense, but his heartbeat was steady. Sansa was able to hear it, she closed her eyes and felt that sound coming through her left cheek, connecting with her soulmark.

Maybe it wasn’t their smartest decision, but it was the only right one. She hoped her family will be able to understand her choice.

***

Stranger was racing for almost a whole day. Sansa was able to have some sleep, but she assumed that Sandor didn’t sleep a wink. He didn’t look tired, though. He was a warrior and being awake for a long time was something he was used to. Sansa felt guilty nevertheless.

They made a quick stop for Stranger to drink from a little creek and for them to eat some dried meat Sandor brought with them. Lady was running around, her pretty muzzle was dirtied with blood. She had already had her meal.

By the end of the day, they've reached an inn. Sansa had no idea where exactly they were now, but Sandor said they had to be somewhere close to the border with Riverrun.

“But where are we heading to?” Sansa asked and he sighed.

“Let’s talk about it when we will be in the inn,” he said, avoiding her gaze. Sansa agreed and they made their first big stop.

Stranger was put into local stables and Lady went for a run in a nearby forest. Sansa didn’t want to let her go for a long time, but Lady was a smart wolf. Even if she had a gentle heart. It was better not to drag additional attention to the people at the inn.

Sandor paid the innkeeper a good coin for their meal and a bedroom. Then he leaned closer and growled something in a quiet voice. Sansa had no idea what he said, but the innkeeper’s face turned white and he nodded eagerly.

Sansa was wearing her hood on and took it off only when they finally were able to close the door behind them.

“I’ve told that bugger to keep his mouth shut,” Sandor snorted. “Just in case. Sometimes my mug can play an advantage when you have no diplomacy skills, you know.”

Sansa didn’t like the way he was talking about himself. She walked to his side and gently cupped his burnt cheek.

“Your _face_ has some other advantages too,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound horrible. She heard ladies at the court to flirt with some young lords and soldiers. But even then she had no idea how to do it right.

“For example?” Sandor snorted, but leaned into her touch.

“For example I like it,” Sansa blurted and knew that her face had to turn as red as a fresh apple. Even her ears were too hot.

A little wrinkle appeared near Sandor’s good eyebrow. Sansa wanted to plant a kiss there straight away, but she felt too shy for it. He was eyeing her for some long minutes. Then Sandor sighed and closed his eyes.

“I wish I could easily believe you,” he murmured and Sansa’s chest tightened. She knew he was always despised by his looks. She knew that people considered him to be a monster who had an ugly face and an ugly soul. Those people were the biggest fools.

She leaned forward and kissed the burnt corner of his mouth.

“I _like_ it,” she repeated quietly. “And you know I’m not lying.”

“I know,” Sandor said and Sansa felt her head swimming.

***

Sandor brought their dinner to the bedroom. He also asked the innkeeper to prepare a hot bath for Sansa. It was so good to wash away the dust from the road. Sansa knew she wasn’t too dirty after just one day of riding, but she was glad anyway.

Sandor decided to wash too and the thought of him taking the same bath after her made Sansa’s cheek redden. She was lying under the furs in her clean nightgown, her eyes squeezed shut. She was exhausted, but she tried to battle the sleep. She was waiting for Sandor to join her under the warm furs.

When he blew out a candle and went to the bed, Sansa’s heart was already racing like crazy. He touched her shoulder and Sansa’s hands started to tremble. Sandor’s touch was shy and she knew he was asking permission with it.

Sansa had no idea about what _exactly_ he was asking permission for, but she bit her lip and rolled to his side.

“Sansa,” he said and his voice was low and hoarse. Then she felt his hand run down to her waist. Her nightgown was too thin and Sansa shivered at his touch. It wasn’t a usual shiver she usually felt when she was cold, it was _something else_. It made her body to heat up at Sandor’s touch.

It was a _nice_ feeling. She reached out her hand and pressed her open palm to his chest. Sandor didn’t wear his tunic and Sansa blushed. Luckily, he wasn’t able to notice her embarrassment in total darkness.

She heard his breath to quicken, and then Sandor’s lips were on her forehead. And on her nose. And on her cheek. And on her chin. They were _everywhere_ and Sansa liked it. She tried to catch them with her lips, but Sandor turned his head and kissed her left cheek. Right where her soulmark was.

“ _Sansa_ ,” he said again and this time his voice was trembling. There was something wet on her cheek now and Sansa felt a salty feeling to appear in her throat. She moved her hand and threw it around his neck, snuggling up to his body and kissing face where she was able to reach him.

Sandor’s hand was roaming around her waist and her breasts and this time Sansa liked it very much. She even felt a pool of warmth to appear somewhere in her lower belly. It was something very strange, but she liked it too. She felt Sandor’s lips to finally reach her lips and sighed in an odd satisfaction. She even opened her mouth a little bit, gasping at the unfamiliar feeling of Sandor’s tongue touching hers one.

She liked that feeling too. She liked everything. She liked being in Sandor’s arms. She liked Sandor. She… loved him? Or was it too fast to say something like that? She always loved her soulmate, and Sandor was her soulmate. So she had to love him. She thought about it and it felt just right.

She was so happy it hurt. It wasn’t like the last time when she spent a night in Sandor’s room in the Red Keep. This time she fell asleep in his arms, her body pressed to his, their legs tangled, their tears mixed.

***

She woke up to the loud voices and steps outside their bedroom. Sansa almost jumped on her bed, but Sandor’s tight embrace didn’t allow her to move.

“Sleep, Sansa,” he growled, nuzzling her hair. At first, Sansa thought they were found, she closed her eyes and prayed to the Gods nothing bad would happen to Sandor. But the time went on and nobody banged on their door or screamed for them to come out. She was just imagining things.

Sansa sighed and wrapped herself up in furs. She also moved a little bit, so she would be even closer to Sandor.

“Sleep, my little bird,” he mumbled and then he was sleeping again. Sansa planted a small kiss on his naked shoulder and closed her eyes. She wasn’t afraid anymore.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long final chapter is here. Wow :')

Sansa woke up to the banging sound on the door. She growled and squeezed her eyes shut, her nose nuzzling Sandor’s collarbone. She felt so warm and protected in Sandor’s tight embrace. She didn’t want to wake up. 

“Clegane, open the bloody door _now_.”

Now it was Sandor’s turn to growl. His face was pressed to Sansa’s tousled hair.

“Why can’t your father just leave us alone,” he mumbled sleepily. Sansa hummed and tried to ignore the loud sound from outside the bedroom. The next moment she jumped on their bed, making Sandor to moan in disappointment.

“Sandor, my _father_ is here,” she whispered, covering her mouth with her palm. “He found us!”

“Congratulations to him,” Sandor grumbled, trying to pull the furs over his head. It looked like didn’t have enough sleep after a full day of ride.

“Clegane, I swear to the Gods…”

“Sandor,” Sansa hissed, trying to calm down. “I think it will be better to open the door. _Please_.”

Sandor muttered something under his nose, but finally opened his eyes and got out of their bed. His movements were slow, as if he was trying to make her father to wait longer on purpose.

Thank the Gods Sandor still had his breeches on. And she was wearing her nightshift. She hoped her father won’t understand things wrongly. She covered herself with some furs anyway.

Her father didn't look furious as he was a couple of days ago. He was just tired. He didn’t say anything to Sandor and stepped inside the bedroom, his eyes searching for an available chair to sit on.

“There’s one near the basin,” Sandor grumbled and her father nodded. Sansa took a deep breath and tried to calm down. At least her father wasn’t screaming or trying to fight Sandor. She hoped it was a good sign.

If only things could proceed like that later on. Sandor closed the door and her father walked to the chair. That was when Sansa finally noticed he was limping and even had a cane with him. She shrieked in horror and felt her eyes to widen.

“Father, w-what had happened?” her voice was shaking, but Sansa didn’t care.

He just waved his hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Sansa,” he said, seating himself comfortably on the chair. “Now we need to talk about what two of you had done. And what to do next.”

Sansa swallowed a lump in her throat. She wanted Sandor to be by her side, but he was standing still next to the door. Probably, he didn’t want to enrage her father. Sansa knew it was for the best, but she still wanted to have him next to her.

“I knew there was no reason to ask someone else to guard you during my absence, as you would try to escape to see Clegane anyway,” her father sighed. “But this. Honestly, I’d never imagined _you_ of all of my children to run away.”

“I wrote you a letter,” Sansa grumbled through her teeth. Suddenly she felt offended. “I left it in your solar.”

“Well, I found you before I returned to King’s Landing, so that letter doesn’t matter,” her father shrugged, but a little smile appeared on his face. “But I can imagine what exactly you wrote there. Something about you and your soulmate.”

“Exactly,” Sansa pouted. “Trust me, father, I love you and everyone in our family. But I want to be with Sandor no matter what.”

“Even if we locked you in the most impregnable castle in the whole Westeros?” her father asked, but there was a mischievous spark in his eyes. He was joking, but Sansa felt her blood to boil.

“Even then,” she almost spat those words. She knew that a lady had to mind her language when speaking to her father, but Sansa didn’t care. “Believe me, I’d run away even from there.”

She heard Sandor’s growl of approval. 

“I see,” her father chuckled. Sansa didn’t see anything funny in the situation they were dragged in. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We need to talk about returning to the capital…”

“I won’t come back,” Sansa cut him off. “I will stay with Sandor.”

“Listen to me, Sansa,” her father sighed. “It’s about your future and…”

“I don’t care what you had decided about my future,” _now_ her blood was boiling for sure.

“ _Sansa_ ,” her father frowned. He even hit the floor with his cane. “I did what you’ve asked me for, so please, now it's your turn to do what I am asking you for. And I am asking you to sit still and listen to what I want to say.”

Sansa clicked her tongue in irritation. She had no idea what her father was talking about. She crossed her hands on her chest and frowned too.

“So, regarding your future,” her father sighed and turned his head to look at Sandor. “Regarding the future of both of you. I have no idea where you two were heading to, but now you and all my men will have our breakfast and then we will go back to King’s Landing.”

Sandor snorted at his words. He crossed his hands on his chest too and was throwing glances at his sword. Sansa hoped there won’t be any need for him to use it against her father. She didn’t want them to fight.

“Yes, Clegane, to King’s Landing,” her father was ignoring Sandor’s sneering attitude. “I will talk to Robert and her will release Clegane from his duties as Joffrey’s sworn shield.”

“What?” Sansa gasped. Did her father want to imprison Sandor because he stole her? her hands were trembling.

“You heard me right. And at the same time, I will make sure Robert won’t raise the question of your betrothal to Joffrey anymore. You’ll be wed to Clegane in a month time anyway.”

“What in the seven hells are you talking about?” Sandor growled. Sansa saw a shock to appear in his eyes. Probably, she didn’t look better.

“What, you don’t want to marry my daughter?” her father narrowed his eyes. “Did you abduct her just to have some fun and then throw her away, like a harlot?”

“Sandor would never do something like that!” Sansa blurted.

“Don’t talk to your daughter like that,” Sandor clenched his fists. His knuckles were white from the pressure and Sansa wanted to take his hand and squeeze it gently. She didn’t move.

“I see,” her father almost _snorted_. “Anyway. The wedding will happen after Catelyn will come to King’s Landing. Meanwhile, we will have to prepare everything for the feast and deal with the rest of the important things. And then you’ll be off to Clegane’s keep.”

“Are you mad?” Sandor barked. Now it was him who became furious, and Sansa knew the reason. “I’m not taking Sansa anywhere close to my bloody brother.”

“And you don’t need to do so,” her father just shrugged. “It’s your keep now. Or, will be after we will reach King’s Landing.”

“ _What_?” Sandor’s eyes widened even more.

“You heard it right,” her father looked unimpressed by his shock. “When we will be in King’s Landing, _Ser_ Gregor Clegane will be stripped off his title, lands, and the keep. It was very _unwisely_ of him to engage himself into some _outrageous_ activities as soon as he left the capital.”

Sandor made a vague noise.

“And an attack on the Hand of the King is something which is considered a Royal treason,” her father continued, throwing a glance at his injured leg. “He’s imprisoned now. And by the law, everything will go to his younger brother. Maybe Robert will even grant you a lord’s title for your service.”

If it wasn’t her father, Sansa would presume it was a dull joke. But Eddard Stark was known for his honesty and straightforwardness. It was real. It sounded so strange, but it was real. She would marry Sandor. He would be free of his service in the Red Keep. He will get his family keep.

She will be united with her _soulmate_. It was only when Sandor suddenly rushed to her side and kneeled in front of her that she realised she was crying.

  
  


***

  
  


They had their breakfast and her father announced it was time to go back to the capital. He was injured, but the innkeeper generously provided his cart for the Hand of the King. Her father asked her to travel with him.

“Why did you change your mind about me and Sandor?” she asked him shyly. Sandor wasn’t with her, there was no way he could leave Stranger alone. Lady was also back and preferred Sandor’s company to the cart.

Her father sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Because I know you are soulmates,” he simply answered. Sansa wrinkled her nose. Was he able to change his mind because of her stubborn actions?

“You wasn’t so sure of it when you locked me in my bedchamber,” she heard herself to say. Her voice was calm but sad.

“I’m sorry for it, Sansa,” her father sighed. He reached his hand out and squeezed her palm. “I’m sorry. But please, try to understand me. There was no evidence of you being soulmates. And for the first time in your life you were confronting me as if I was your enemy. Of course, I overreacted a little bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Sansa blurted out.

“That’s alright,” her father gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Anyway, I did exactly as you asked me. I left the Red Keep and went to find Clegane’s brother.”

“You _what_?” Sansa gasped. “You went to find him because of my words?”

“Exactly,” her father chuckled. “Not the smartest decision, I know. Cost me an injured leg. Who knows what could happen if it wasn’t for Lady.”

“Lady found you”? Sansa’s eyes widened.

“We weren’t too far from the inn,” her father explained. “I confronted Gregor Clegane about his atrocities regarding the common folk on his way from the capital. He wasn’t impressed, tried to fight me. But it was when I mentioned his brother’s soulmark when he attacked me for real. My soldiers were fighting with the outlaws Clegane calls his men, but it was Lady who helped me to deal with that… monster. Gods, everyone know the rumours about his attitude towards your… your soulmate. But hearing the truth from Clegane himself was simply horrible.”

“He _is_ a monster,” Sansa confirmed. She was still shocked. Her father went to find the worst man she ever met just to find the truth about her soulmate. He had to leave his work in King’s Landing, he confronted the ruthless warrior. And everything to dig out the truth. For her, Sansa’s, sake.

She felt a wave of shame engulfing her. He was her father and he truly cared for her. He wanted her to be happy. And she had a grudge against him. There were tears in the corners of her eyes, again.

“Don’t worry, Sansa,” her father said in a tender voice. “Luckily, the injury isn’t too bad. I should recover before your wedding.”

“I hope so,” she smiled at him. “Otherwise, mother will take you back to Winterfell straight away.”

Her father threw his head back and laughed.

“That’s what she will do,” he said and for the first time in last days, Sansa felt herself truly relaxed.

  
  


***

  
  


Of course, she was asked to stay in the tower of the Hand.

“I know you are soulmates,” her father said with a frown. “But it doesn’t mean you will engage yourself in something… inappropriate with Clegane.”

They had never done anything inappropriate. Maybe some of their kissed were too passionate for people who weren’t wedded. And maybe some of their touches were too immodest. Sansa remembered the way Sandor caressed her breasts under the warm furs and shivered. That strange shiver became her constant companion recently, but Sansa didn’t mind it. She was looking forward to her wedding night very much.

It didn’t mean that Sandor wasn’t visiting her during the day. King Robert freed him from his position the next day after their return. Joffrey was openly expressing his displeasure, but Sansa didn’t want to think about him. She spent her days strolling around the gardens with Sandor, and her evenings meeting with him in the kennels. At least she still had those clandestine moments with him.

It was awkward to kiss him in front of her direwolf, though. Sandor barked out a laugh when she told him about it. He joked that the kennels were the most proper place to receive kisses from a dog. Of course, she smacked him for saying those things.

“You are not a dog,” she pouted, while Sandor was covering her cheeks and neck with tiny pecks. As if he was trying to make an apology in such a way. “You are Sandor. _My_ Sandor.”

“ _Yours_ ,” he exhaled, embracing her tightly and nuzzling her cheek. “I will always be yours, my little bird.”

A queer warmth was in her lower belly again and Sansa closed her eyes, pressing closer to his body. She wanted to melt in him, to become one with him. Unfortunately, she still had to wait for it until her wedding night.

She was told they would leave to the westerlands the day after their wedding. Sandor was named a lord of his keep, and Sansa knew he was looking forward to changing everything about the way things were going in his lands. He was denying it, cursing and barking that being a lord was the dumbest thing. But Sansa knew he was just showing off.

She also knew she will be always by his side, helping him and supporting him. She wanted to become a lady her people would love. As well as a good wife for Sandor. She hoped she won’t screw it up. Sandor said they were soulmates, so there was no way she could make him unhappy.

He told her once it was something he used to imagine when he was a little boy. That he would get his soulmark, and one day he will be a lord with a beautiful lady by his side. His perfect soulmate he would love with all his heart. He had forgotten all his dreams after his face was burnt and people starting to call him a heartless beast.

And now those dreams became real. Sandor even wept after he shared his thoughts with her, and Sansa kissed those tears off his cheeks. When she pressed her lips to the burnt side of his face, Sandor shivered. He touched her soulmark and said he couldn’t wait for their wedding. Sansa knew she was the happiest girl in the whole world.

  
  


***

  
  


The five-petal flower on her left cheek was blooming as always. Sandor touched it with his fingertips and smiled.

“With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife,” he said. His voice was trembling. Sansa knew she sounded the same. She cupped his left cheek and felt a familiar warmth to run through the strings of her soul.

And when Sandor’s lips touched hers, her soul was singing in delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow, it was a rather spontaneous journey :')  
> thank you for reading and your support, i really appreciate it <3

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not really used to write the entire work from Sansa's pov, but i'll try...


End file.
